


Food Fest Bingo

by lea_hazel



Category: Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem (Visual Novel)
Genre: Backstory, Baking, Community: allbingo, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Dynamics, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Hise, Pregnancy, Revaire, Sister-Sister Relationship, Wellin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23381833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/pseuds/lea_hazel
Summary: For allbingo's March 2020 round, featuring food-related prompts.
Relationships: Arland Princess/Hamin, Revaire Widow & Original Character, Ria/Wellin Countess
Kudos: 1
Collections: Allbingo





	1. The Dark Before the Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Allegra's story is told in greater detail in the ongoing fic [Snowfall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14366994/chapters/33166512), where Scarlet, Gigi, and the other siblings are introduced. 
> 
> The prompt for this part was: "The Trip".

Allegra’s first visit to Keirtarn after returning from Vail Isle was only her second visit, ever; the first had been for Scarlet and Iulin’s wedding. She had to admit to herself that she didn’t know quite what to expect. She sat in her carriage, feeling her brains rattling about inside her skull, and made a mental note about how badly the roads in the county required maintenance. Traveling so late in the year was never comfortable, but there was a great deal that a competent liege lord could do with the tithes that were left after the crown collected its taxes in the spring. If Iulin was not able to effect measures in his own right, she would have to appeal to Lord Jacint, his father.

But there would be time for politics and pulling strings later. Her first priority had to be Scarlet, and the baby that was coming, and the promise that she’d made to them both so many years ago. It was strange to think that her younger sister had reached such an important life milestone. Scarlet had rushed into neither her marriage nor her first child. Allegra herself had had a three-year marriage in which she could have chosen to have a child, if she’d wanted to. Still, it was strange to admit that she’d beaten her to something, and Scarlet was sure to be insufferable with advice, if ever Allegra _did_ decide to have a baby.

Of course, that decision was not hers alone to make, and it was too soon to think about that, anyway.

She dozed uneasily for the rest of the way to Scarlet’s home, and woke with a start when a footman wrenched the carriage door open, holding an umbrella in his other hand.

“Late rain, milady,” he said apologetically.

Allegra was gracious as she accepted his assistance. The road was deep in mud, but the grounds were well-maintained, and she had dressed for travel. Nothing would be stained beyond salvage if she got a little rainwater and mud on her, and after her journey she longed for a hot bath. The footman rushed her from the drive into the great, drafty front hall of Scarlet’s house. Scarlet herself wasn’t waiting to greet her, but her husband was.

“She’s taking an afternoon rest,” said Iulin, unprompted.

“Good,” said Allegra crisply. “Good to see you again, Iulin. Is the family well? How fares your father?”

“As stubborn as ever, but we’re all in good health and good spirits,” said Iulin wryly. “Our housekeeper can see you settled in the guest wing, if you don’t mind. I’d like to check on Scarlet one more time.”

Allegra smiled. “Of course,” she said. “I won’t feel fit for human company until I’ve changed into something sensible.”

She patted the leather satchel at her side, where she kept her change of clothes. She wasn’t about to send anyone out into the rain to lug her traveling trunk unless it was truly needful. She followed the helpful housekeeper up into the house’s spacious second story and was happy to shed her traveling boots and sink back into the comforts of civilization. She was on her second cup of tea, sitting in front of the vanity mirror and trying to untangle her hair, when Scarlet slipped into the room.

Her face glowed with her smile. “You made it!”

“I wouldn’t disappoint you,” said Allegra, smiling back.

“Oh, not intentionally, I know,” said Scarlet, settling herself into an armchair, “but I heard the roads were terrible after winter, and I thought perhaps you’d think it’s too dangerous to travel so far. You’ve always been the cautious one between the two of us.”

“True,” agreed Allegra. “The roads could be better. They look as though they could use some maintenance work, but I won’t bore you with the details. I’m just glad I didn’t miss the birth. You’re due any day now.”

“As far as I know,” said Scarlet, pressing her hands together. “Do you think Mama will be upset that I invited only one of you?”

Allegra’s smile was wry. “Ursa and Ellie know no more about giving birth than you do,” she said, “and Gigi is in Rosewood with Aunt Hen.”

Scarlet made a face. “I meant inviting _her_ , Katie, you know that.”

“And you know that our mother is not the most practical of women,” said Allegra patiently. “Having her here for the birth would only make you more anxious. She’s never attended, you know.”

“Really?” asked Scarlet with a puzzled frown.

Allegra set down her brush and turned back to the tea table, pouring out a second cup for her sister.

“Yes, _really_ ,” she said. “Mama had three brothers and no sisters. Of Papa’s sisters, Henrietta eloped to Rosewood before Mama and Papa had ever met, and Geraldine was at the convent. Whom would she have known who needed an attendant at childbirth?”

“Her friends?” said Scarlet doubtfully.

Allegra laughed. “It’s a bosom friend indeed who would be let into the birthing chamber. I spared her the trouble when I decided that I shouldn’t, but I knew she would drive me to distraction if I _had_ invited her. If she’d come at all, and not managed to find some excuse to evade.”

“You were very young, Katie,” said Scarlet.

“I’m not sure how that enters into it,” she replied. “Yes, I made the decision not to have a child, but it was nothing to do with our mother’s wishes, anymore than it was with Quentin’s.”

“And now?” asked Scarlet, looking away from her and busily blowing on her tea.

“First things first,” replied Allegra, amused. “Let’s get this baby out of you. I’m not even sure when, exactly my wedding will _be_. Do you have any notion if you’ll be having a boy or a girl?”

“The omens are for a boy, and Iulin is right pleased, but I don’t know,” said Scarlet. “What do you mean _when_? You’re not having a spring wedding? I thought you’d want to be married as soon as possible after the new year.”

“We both have some business to attend to, beforehand,” said Allegra airily, and sipped her tea.

Scarlet’s eyes narrowed at her. “The kind of business that made you press Gigi into taking the boys for a long visit to Aunt Hen’s?”

“Never you mind,” was all the answer she got.

Just then a knock came at the door, admitting a harried-looking maid.

“Milady, would you like to dress for dinner?” asked the maid.

Allegra was amused to note that her tone of voice was remarkably like the one she had used, when they were children, to coax the younger girls into proper behavior.

“I’ll be by in a moment, Gemma,” said Scarlet sweetly. “My sister needs my help with her hair.”

“I do not!” objected Allegra, just as soon as the door has softly shut.

Scarlet ignored her, shunting aside the tea setting and taking up one of her silver-backed brushes. “Remember how we used to do up each other’s hair for dances before you were married?”

Allegra grumbled, but submitted. “I don’t suppose Eleanor ever let you put ribbons and flowers in hers, after I left.”

Scarlet laughed softly. “Nothing like it. I think she prefers being a wallflower.”

It had only taken her twenty four years of knowing her next-youngest sister to figure that out.

“What about you?” asked Allegra, forbearing the tug and pull of the brush on her scalp. “Would you rather a boy or a girl?”

Scarlet hummed. “I haven’t made up my mind. We’ve chosen names, of course.”

“Something sensible?” asked Allegra. “Or something that would do mother proud?”

“You’re so acerbic, Katie, and I don’t know why,” retorted Scarlet. “We’ll be naming them after Iulin’s grandparents, most likely, so let your mind be at ease. Only nice, sensible, old-fashioned names in the Jacint family.”


	2. Three by Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A natural continuation of Hamin's scene as part of the sheltered princess's personal plot, in week 4. 
> 
> The prompt was "Scones".

Hamin was used to rising first in the morning, so he was surprised to find the other side of the bed cold and empty when he woke up. Well, actually, he was used to always rising first because he was usually alone. This new living arrangement of having a housemate, a bedmate, and a lifemate was only a couple of weeks old, and it was still new and scary for both of them. But not so new that he hadn’t already managed to learn that his beautiful wife wasn’t usually one for rising early, unless she had to.

He was very surprised, then, to find that Felicity was up and about before he’d so much as stirred. And even more surprised at the smell of baking in the air. Surprised and, frankly, a little concerned. With more than a little apprehension, he threw on his clothes and wandered down the stairs to find his wife.

Felicity was, indeed, in the kitchen. She was busily scraping a batch of scones off a baking sheet and into a basket, neatly lined with a linen napkin. When she was done, she dropped the sheet on the kitchen table and industriously wiped her floury hands on her apron, sniffing the air with appreciation.

“Better than your first effort, Glitter?” asked Hamin, strolling into the kitchen and reaching for the basket to snatch a sample.

Felicity swatted his hand away. “You’ll never desist from reminding me of that disaster, will you? And yes, they could hardly be worse.”

Hamin grinned. “You were so cute standing in the castle kitchens, pouting sadly at your burned biscuits.”

“You can’t have one, they’re for later,” said Felicity, resting her hands on her hips and trying to look stern.

“But you have a whole other bowl full of dough right there,” said Hamin.

“They’re for the family picnic, so be good,” she insisted.

“No one will mind if I take just one,” he said. “There’s plenty.”

“I counted them out exactly,” said Felicity.

She slapped his hand one more time for good measure, and returned to rolling out the second batch of scones, fitting them onto the baking sheet in neat rows of three by three.

Hamin sank onto a stool by the kitchen table, defeated. “How do you figure nine?” he asked idly, just to keep her talking.

If he distracted her, maybe he could sneak one scone before the rest of the family came to visit.

“You and me, that’s two,” said Felicity, rolling out another blob of dough. “Your father is three. Your aunt and uncle make five, and then your three cousins.”

“That’s eight, Glitter,” said Hamin.

She paused in her work and raised an eyebrow at him. “I _assumed_ you invited Leala, too.”

“Oh,” he said, belatedly. “Yeah.”

Felicity dropped her roller and held up nine flour-covered fingers. “Nine people at the picnic, two scones apiece. And I want someone _else_ to try them first, so that I can get an honest impression.”

He laughed. “You’re too cruel!”

“And you’re ridiculous,” she replied, but a smile was creeping on her face. “You’ll have all the food you could possibly stomach in less than an hour, you know.”

“I know.” He got up and, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, planted a noisy kiss on her cheek. “I just like teasing you.”


	3. A Good Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this story was "Berry Picking".

Ria had adjusted to the pace of life at Holt faster than anyone could believe. They landed on Wellin's shores at high summer, and arrived at Holt in time to discover both that the crown's promised aid had arrived, and that the green fields around the old great house were once again ripening with grain, the gardens growing, the orchard trees heavy with fruit. Jack was relieved beyond measure. Even with their granaries full, courtesy of the crown's support, two lean years in a row was just short of an omen. Ominous countesses did not thrive, not so deep in Wellin's countryside, where superstition often held sway.

"Was it as bad as all that, last winter?" asked Ria, when they were taking a break in their ride.

Jack made a face. She didn't like to recall the worst times. She didn't want their memory overshadowing the bright and beautiful summer day they were riding through.

Ria took her grimacing silence for a mark of the gravity of the situation, and laid a hand on her knee in sympathy. "I hope the harvest is good this year," she offered.

"So do I, Ria," replied Jack.

"We all do, miss," said the footman accompanying them, surreptitiously making a sign against the evil eye.

Jack couldn't quite shake the niggling worry at the pit of her stomach, but a month after their grand arrival back at Hadley House, all was still as well as could be hoped. The dogs and horses and the fat mousing cats that made their home in the kitchens all took to Ria immediately, and the humans weren't much more trouble than that. Jack hadn't had a lady's maid since her uncle first tried to foist one on her, not long after Earl Leopold's passing, and the news that Ria was to fulfill this function was met with some skepticism by the household staff. Luckily for them, though, that skepticism did not extend to the Countess's decision to house Miss Ria in the maid's room adjoining her own. And as Ria didn't know how to be idle, Mrs. Madder, the housekeeper, forbore her occasional assistance with whatever task was most pressing.

When Ria burst in on her excitedly in the middle of drafting some very tedious letters, all wind-blown hair with an empty basket dangling from one arm, Jack could only conclude that there were no pressing tasks to be delegated, that day.

"What has you so excited today?" asked Jack, cheerfully abandoning her ink pot.

Ria's eyes shone. "The raspberries have ripened."

"Finally!" said Jack, throwing up her hands. "I was wondering whether we'd have any, this year. Usually they come in earlier in the summer than this, but the late frost-- what?"

"Come on!" said Ria, so impatiently she looked ready to stomp her little foot on the floor. "What are you waiting for? Let's go pick some!"

Jack laughed. "Ria, sweetheart, I had no idea you love raspberries so much."

"Raspberries are nice," she replied, "but you know what's better?"

"What?" asked Jack obligingly.

"Raspberry jam," said Ria. "And preserves. And raspberry syrup, for cakes and things, and dried raspberries for the filling. Oh! And raspberry wine, of course."

"And do you know how to make all these things?" asked Jack, still amused. "Maybe you should be helping the cook instead of Mrs. Madder."

"Oh, I'd love to!" said Ria. "If she'll have me, of course."

Jack smiled. "Maybe if we bribe her with a large enough pile of fresh raspberries, it'll sweeten her up, some."

Ria threw back her head and laughed.

Jack grabbed her outstretched hand, and reached with the other hand to take the empty basket from her. "Come on, we can walk through the village. It's a longer route, but maybe some of the children will want to join us."

"That sounds wonderful," said Ria, her eyes bright.

They delayed only just long enough to make sure that Mrs. Madder knew where they would both be, for the rest of the afternoon. Then they made their way down from Hadley House, along the main road that circled down to the village, and from there to the edge of the meadow where the largest patch of raspberries was to be found. Trailing behind them were five or six of the village's more industrious young children, all laughing and chattering and singing. Having resigned herself to the fact that she couldn't have any of her own, at least not without admitting an inconvenient husband into the otherwise well-organized chaos of her household, Jack discovered that she liked the company of other people's children almost as well.

"Everyone will be having raspberries for dinner tonight," she said, with some satisfaction, when they began to trail their way back towards the house, leaving behind a gaggle of sleepy and sticky children, all of them well-pleased with their successful harvest.

"I hope Mrs. Gill is happy with our pickings," said Ria anxiously.

"How could she not be?" asked Jack philosophically. "Mrs. Gill loves a good fresh fruit as much as any cook who ever stirred a pot, and these are the sweetest berries I've ever picked in Holt."

Ria smiled. "What about outside of Holt?" she teased.

"Anywhere in Wellin," promised Jack extravagantly. "Although I admit, the homemade blackberry wine was the only tolerable part of my poor cousin's wedding. We'll have to see how your recipe stands up to hers, hmm, Ria?"

Ria slapped her shoulder, and Jack laughed. She was still laughing when they wandered into the kitchens to find Mrs. Gill hard at work finishing dinner preparations. She exclaimed so much over the baskets full of berries, and Ria smiled so prettily when she explained about her raspberry ambitions, that it seemed inevitable that the two of them would spend most of the next day brewing their concoctions. That suited Jack fine. She had work of her own to do, as much as she preferred being outside picking berries, and Ria was always that much happier to be reunited at the end of a busy day. Her sense of accomplishment in finishing her chores was beginning to rub off on Jack, she suspected. She was almost looking forward to the satisfaction of sending off a pile of sealed letters, and having a few weeks' peace before the replies made their way back to Hadley House.

Ria caught her smiling to herself and tilted her head in question. "What is it?"

"Nothing," said Jack, shaking her head. "Today was a good day."


End file.
